Promises
by RamblingPug
Summary: School is ending and some changes are inevitable. Something of a prequel to 'Home'. Mazume. Oneshot. Warning : Smut ahead.


**Disclaimer : **All of these lovely characters belong to Yamamori-sensei.

**A/N : **First off, I would like to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed and/or PMed me for my previous Mazume fic, 'Home'. Your comments were all so lovely and motivating! Also, I won't be putting up all of my work on FFn, mostly cuz the whole process is a pain and I'm lazy lol but I post everything to my Tumblr first, so you can check out my Tumblr fanfiction page if you're interested, because I have, in fact, written one more Mazume (smut)story which I haven't posted here. The link is on my profile. : )

This one has a little bit of angst, I hope I've been able to convey that well. It's sort of like a prequel to Home.

..

It's a regular Saturday afternoon, they're doing the thing where they're ostensibly _studying_, upstairs in Mamura's room, with complete focus and concentration…

On _each other_.

This time she's perched on the edge of his study desk, having started out with something as innocuous as a doubt in calculus and ending up with his mouth and hands on her, plunging greedily.

"Shh," he murmurs, "My father is going to wonder how studying can cause so much noise."

His admonishment seems to fall on deaf ears, because with each thrust of his fingers, her moans increase in volume till he is swallowing her desperate cries in wet, open-mouthed kisses wringing out her pleasure till the last drop.

He pulls his fingers out of her gently and she collapses on his shoulders, one hand reaching for the table for support. She is barely able to catch her breath, leaning back and knocking over a few textbooks to the ground. Climbing gingerly off the table, she stretches, reaching down to pick up the pile of things she had pushed down when he was having his way with her but Mamura gets there before her. "I'll get it!" He says rather hastily, rushing to gather everything before she does, in an uncharacteristic hurry.

There's an odd, edgy tinge to his voice and she eyes him suspiciously as he arranges the books back on his table. Before he can stop her, she's reached for the folded letter he's trying to artfully hide from her in between his books.

"Oooh, what's this?" She coos teasingly, because Mamura is terrible at being sneaky, having gone all red from being caught and still frustratingly aroused for earlier.

"Nothing. Come back here," he mumbles, trying to pull her back to him, thoroughly worked up that she got to finish but he is still half-hard from her rubbing up against him a little while ago.

"This doesn't look like _nothing_," she teases, "Are those junior girls still sending you love letters?"

He doesn't say anything and she proceeds to open the letter, her smirk wiped clean off her face when she reads the first few words.

"Kyoto University?"

He looks at her, a curious mix of apprehension and guilt and she begins to read further.

"Dear Mamura Daiki, we are pleased to inform you that you've been granted admission…" she trails off, not completing the sentence. "This arrived three days ago."

_Why didn't you tell me?_

He can literally hear her unspoken question but he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know why he didn't tell her. He had barely been able to process it himself.

"I'm sor" –

She cuts him off by reaching for his belt buckle, attention focussed on the now wilting half-boner from a few moments ago, in a bid to tune out this latest revelation.

She yanks his boxers down and fists a small hand around him, making him shudder because she is stroking him with a roughness, in quick, urgent movements. She lowers her mouth on his straining arousal, licking it once, twice and scraping the sensitive nerve at the bottom with her teeth.

Groaning, he threads his fingers into her hair, keeping her head in place as she continues her relentless ministrations and even though he is completely at her mercy and sighing her name almost reverentially, all she can think of is that he didn't even _tell_ her.

..

..

..

"Open up, Tsuru," Kame commands, banging the door for approximately the tenth time. There was no response as such, just a continuation of the helpless sobs that echoed in the bathroom. "I'm warning you, if you don't come out right this instant, I will crawl under that door and get inside."

Suzume tenses, "Uh, Kame-chan, I don't think" –

The door finally opens and everyone is silent for a moment taking in Tsurutani's dishevelled appearance, her face red and swollen from the tears.

"I don't understand why you're crying, Idiot," Kame scolds. "You agreed that breaking up was for the best."

"I _know_," she cries into her shoulder, "I know this is my decision."

She assures them that this is what she wants yet the tears aren't ending and it frightens Suzume because she's never seen her friend look so distraught.

"But I don't want him to go," she chokes out, "I want him to stay _here_, with _me_."

And in that moment, Suzume understands completely.

..

..

They walk back home in silence, Suzume clearly preoccupied with her thoughts. He reaches for her hand, caressing her palm, wishing she'd just open up and tell him what was wrong.

Instead he just asks, "Is Tsurutani okay? She looked really upset today."

"They broke up," she answers, simply. He doesn't say anything for a moment, evidently shocked with this piece of news.

"So that's why he didn't show up today," he murmurs, "Inukai never skips school."

"He's leaving," she says, by way of explanation, her words choked and contrite today. He nods, "I guess it's for the best, eh?"

She stops suddenly and he realizes that they've already reached the corner where her route splits from his. Slipping her hand out from his, she just looks at him blankly.

When she speaks, it's so quiet he isn't sure if he's just imagining it. "But you're leaving too, Mamura."

..

..

..

Zipping up his suitcase with great difficulty, he scans the room one last time to see if he's missed anything. His CD shelf has been emptied, his best shirts folded and packed away and all the school books have been cleared out. His room looks like it has been stripped bare.

His eyes fall on a small photo-frame holding a picture of him and Suzume, with him looking utterly harassed and her sporting a gleeful expression, on his back. He looked terrible ofcourse, his face consumed by a deep blush, but he loves this picture solely because she absolutely radiates happiness.

It hurts to admit that he hasn't seen her this happy in weeks, a bleak, distant expression clouding her lovely blue eyes. He knows what's going on in her mind, the constant reminder and insecurity of their future looming above their heads.

He's a coward and he knows it, he's been wanting to talk to her about this for days, to ask her how she _really _feels about him going away instead of the fake, pleasant smiles that she puts up for everyone else's benefit. Instead she's been pulling away and what's worse is that he's been _letting _her, when what he should've done is wrap her closer and tell her that it was going to be just _fine_. That he was only going to be five hours away, that he'll visit her all the time and there won't be a single moment when he doesn't think of her.

But lately he isn't even sure if that's what she wants to hear. Her playful teasing has been replaced with increasing silences and her kisses feel so distant, it feels like he's kissing a stanger.

He hasn't even left yet and he _already_ feels lonely.

It's started to occur to him that maybe she doesn't even want to do this whole long distance thing. He'd completely understand, of course. Obviously she'd prefer to be with someone who was actually, physically there for her, someone who would make her smile and walk her home everyday, buy her the seafood treats she loves so much...

Except he totally wouldn't understand. He sighs, raking a hand through his blonde mop of hair and turns off the light. So what if he's moving away? He'll be back as often as he can. He'd find a way to make her feel special.

He doesn't care if he's being selfish, he thinks vehemently, as he strips down to his boxers, but he wants all her smiles and tears to himself.

His internal conflict is interrupted by a small loud _clank_ that rings through the darkness. He turns on the light immediately, blinking, searching the room for the possible source of the disruption, when he hears it a second time, this time sharper as though something is hitting glass. He swiftly climbs out of bed and walks towards the window. He hears the noise once more and realises that he is used to hearing the tree branch scrape against his window but this is different. Like something small is distinctly hitting glass over and over and again.

He wonders if it's a bird pecking against the glass and opens the curtains quickly, hoping the sudden motion would scare it away.

But staring at the sight in front of him, his mouth falls open, stunned into shock, as if he has seen a ghost. He is frozen to the spot until he hears the sound once more, shaking him out of his reverie.

He squints into the darkness, seeing for himself that it is, in fact, his girlfriend sitting on the tree branch, right outside his window. When his brain finally begins to start working again, he pushes the window open hurriedly.

"What the hell" -

"Finally! What took you so long?" She exclaims, whispering as loudly as possible, as if he was just supposed to intuitively know that it was her outside his window, perched on the tree in the middle of the night.

She gestures for him to help her inside and he does, hitting her head only once as she clambers in clumsily, falling into his arms.

She is freezing, he realizes, and _bare_, evidently having snuck out in nothing more than night clothes which consisted of a flimsy white cami and barely existent shorts, as her cold skin brushes against his chest, making him shiver.

She looks up at him, wide blue eyes into his dark scarlet ones, and feels a tingle run through her body. When was the last time he had just held her like this, without the pressure and tension between them ruining the moment?

"Idiot," he says, flicking her forehead, "What the hell are you doing, out at in the middle of the night, dressed like _this_?!" He gestures irritably at her clothing, or rather her lack of it.

"It's not safe outside at this hour," he continues angrily, "You could've just called me!"

She shrugs, "I wanted to see you."

It's not that he doesn't appreciate the sentiment, he _does_, it even makes his heart do this weird flip kind of thing but, "I would have come over you know."

She rolls her eyes. "Just because my Uncle is fond of you, doesn't mean he's going to be perfectly okay with you spending the night."

Wait. _Spending the night?!_

"Besides," she says, grinning excitedly, "That was so much fun! I can't believe I haven't done this before." She's about to say something along the lines of doing this the next time she comes over, but when she realizes the next time is not going to be for a long, long while, she sobers up almost instantly.

Plopping herself on the bed, she notices the two suitcases lying in the corner, the picture of the both of them lying on top, and her heart constricts, almost painfully. "All packed, huh?" she asks, lightly, gesturing for him to come sit next to her.

She takes his hand gently, revelling in how he warms her up instantly. He tenses, and she realizes an apology is definitely in order. "Are you ready for this?" she asks softly, looking up at him.

"I don't know," he admits, honestly. "It's a little scary, I guess."

She sees the apprehension in his eyes and she feels guilty, she's been a terrible girlfriend, so wrapped up in her own silly worries that she never once stopped to consider how he feels, he's the one who's moving, after all.

So she climbs up into his lap, deciding that sometimes words aren't enough to express how she really feels and kisses him softly. "I'm sorry," she murmurs and it's a lot of apologies rolled into one.

"For what?" he mumbles, stroking her hips and capturing her mouth once more, already distracted from her attempt at conversation.

"For being so distant," she murmurs, as his mouth trails kisses along her jaw.

He hums in assent, nipping his way down her neck, she _should _be sorry.

"For not talking to you," she sighs, his lips now at her shoulder, having slipped the strap down.

"For not kissing you back, these past few days," and for that she really _is _sorry, because she doesn't know when she'll be able to kiss him like this again.

He shifts, and somehow she finds herself on her back, his figure looming over hers. She realizes he doesn't want to talk anymore, so when his lips find hers again, she submits to him, responding fully to his rough invasion of her mouth.

Pulling at her hips, he grinds into her, her long, lithe body brushing deliciously against his, falling into a fevered, desperate rhythm. He runs his hands along her thighs, up under the small fabric of her shorts and stops when he feels a small box in her pocket, intruding his exploration of her body.

He reaches into her pocket, taking out the little box and blanches when he sees what it is.

"Uhm, Suzume?" He asks, holding it up so she can see and she gulps, consumed by embarrassment.

"I told you," she says, in a small voice, "I wanted to spend the night..."

"So you bought condoms?"

He pulls back, keeping a two feet distance between them. "We don't have to do this, you know," he asserts, "Just because I'm leaving."

Her cheeks burn, so maybe that _did_ have something to do with her impulsive actions. But it didn't change the fact that this was something she had thought about even before all of this.

"I want to," she says, swallowing her embarrassment. "I've thought about this."

He arches an eyebrow, _then why not bring this up earlier?_ They may not have gone all the way, but there was never really a lack of intimacy, so to speak.

Twiddling with the box nervously, he says, "Suzume, I'm not sure if" -

His mouth runs dry at the sight of her, tossing her camisole over her shoulders. She gets off the bed and stands in front of him, naked from waist up except for a white lace bra and her tiny sleep shorts.

Which promptly falls to the floor, the very next minute, revealing matching, delicate, lace panties that looked so flimsy, so fine that he could possibly literally tear them off of her if he isn't careful.

He _could._

The physical repercussions of his thought process are instantaneous, a sweet pressure building up at his groin as he strains within the confines of his boxers.

She sees his reluctance fading, with every passing second and she decides to take advantage of it, reaching up to unclasp her bra and dropping it to the floor, along with the rest of her clothing.

She watches as his eyes darken, the bulge against his boxers growing more prominent and licks her lips unconsciously, her breathing going ragged at the very sight of his response to her.

She reaches for her panties, pulling on one side but he stops her, grabbing her hand and yanking her down on to the bed. He wants to be the one to take them off.

He kisses her with unrestrained passion, his earlier half-hearted protests forgotten with the movement of her mouth, eager and responsive against his.

"Tell me," he whispers, teeth grazing her lips, "what exactly have you thought about?"

His thumbs twist her nipples, pulling sharply and sending paroxysms of sweet pleasure straight to her groin. "You," she mumbles, "like this."

He kisses down the slopes of her body, slowly, deliberately, sucking on her pale skin and knowing it will leave marks and delighting in it, till he reaches her breasts, kissing them softly, one by one. "Like this?" He asks, circling his tongue over her sensitive tips, "But we've done this before."

"Tell me what you think about, Suzume," he urges, hoarsely, before taking her nipple between his teeth.

She gasps, shuddering at the sensation, pulling on his hair and pressing him to continue. He resists, staring at her intently, clear that he isn't going to move unless she starts talking.

She literally _whines_, breathing out, "You. Inside me."

"Inside you?" He asks, unrelenting, even as he is nudging her legs apart, "Where?"

_Sly bastard, you know perfectly well, where._

But she is in no position to argue, her senses taken over by his unyielding assault on her breasts, so she grabs his hand and pulls it to her centre, panties embarrassingly damp, brushing against her.

His fingers inch into the flimsy lace, tugging it impatiently down her legs and his breath catches in his throat when he realizes just how wet and warm she really is.

For _him_.

He slips into her, lazy and loose, gently probing her soft folds, his breath hot and caressing, just above his fingers. "Is this all you wanted?"

Wishing desperately for a 'no', he adds another finger, a strangled moan escaping her because she knows she's supposed to be _quiet_.

"More," she mumbles, not even caring that she isn't coherent anymore, "I want you." He picks up the pace, deciding that he likes it when Suzume is vocal about her desires, plunging his fingers into her ruthlessly.

He can feel her tense up, her moans getting shorter, deeper as she begins to buck up to meet his probing fingers. He pulls out of her suddenly and she is lost, helpless and desperate, struggling to find some source of friction.

"Mamura," she whimpers, "Please." And he's certain he likes _this_ even better.

She draws a shaky breath. "I want to feel you. Inside me."

His eyes glaze over, pupils darkening as he sits up abruptly, reaching for the box she had brought along with her. He pulls out the packet and hands it to her, discarding his boxer shorts and springing free, slick and hard. He takes a moment to just stare at her, beautiful and panting, cheeks blushing at his frankly carnal appreciation of her body.

She reaches for him, slipping the condom on hesitantly, stroking him firmly, in short definite strokes and he stills her. "Don't," he warns, pulling up to kiss her, "I want to make this good for you."

Pushing her hands back above her head, he takes her mouth again, urging her to wrap her legs around him, introducing the length of him against her heat, slowly, cautiously.

Except 'slowly' seems to be a concept that isn't really working for him because she feels too damn good, rubbing against him in a fevered, heady rhythm.

"Ready?" He asks, even though he didn't really have to because her body has expressed how ready she is only too clearly, wet and dripping that she is against his sheathed hardness.

He pushes gingerly into her, carefully watching her features and kissing her discomfort away. He knows it's okay when he feels her relax into his kiss, arching her hips upward to meet his.

It's impossible to bite back his groan as he slips into her fully, pure sensation taking over him as he begins to move inside her, slow at first and then faster, more deliberate thrusts, eager to bring both him and her to the sweet precipice of pleasure.

She does her best to keep quiet, biting hard on her lip when he drives her to the edge of pleasure, white-hot and undeniable, taking over her body and squeezing around him and dragging him along to the abyss with her.

Flopping back on to the bed, she stares up at the ceiling, noting absently that he has glow in the dark solar system stickers and that she must make fun of him for this later.

Mamura, on the other hand, doesn't have eyes for anything else, pulling her close to him, nuzzling her and showering her back with soft, butterfly kisses, and she giggles, a bright, charming sound echoing in the darkness.

If this is what it takes to improve her mood, he's up for it anytime.

"Looks like you're gonna have to come back every now and then if you want to, you know," she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, eyes gleaming with glee.

"Ah, so that's the reason behind breaking into my room tonight."

"I did not break in," she exclaims, sounding only slightly affronted. "You welcomed me in and eagerly went along with my plan."

"You were naked," he murmurs, tongue gliding back into her mouth, "and in my bed. How am I supposed to resist that?"

She grins, sliding her hands into his hair, their kisses having slowed from their earlier scorching urgency to a mellow, sweet affliction.

They fall asleep that way, tangled, inextricably, wrapping desperately around each other, holding on tightly before change makes their way into their lives.

"I'll come back anyway, Suzume," he murmurs as he drifts into a deep, comfortable sleep. "I'll make this work, I promise."

**A/N** : A little too sappy eh? I dunno. :/

If you have a moment, stop by and tell me what you think? :)


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